Just as she was about to leave, Cass watched him get on his knees and place his hands on his lap, one over the other.
"Anything you tell me to, Cassandra." He followed her every movement, his eyes jumping around her face, looking for any sign of wha...
CW: brief discussions of illegal pornography (adults); discussions of why a masochist degradee is into the things he's into.
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Now, if life wasn't the most boring thing in the world, Ent didn't know what was.
Truthfully, it was very nice to not have any responsibilities on his shoulders right now. He'd signed contracts with his vendors until the end of the year, so he had a long while to figure out if he was going to find new suppliers to be able to afford to keep the bar alive.
The last few weeks had been so boring, in fact, that he'd noticed what's-her-name hadn't come to the gym as often.
She finally figured out new year's resolutions weren't as motivating as she'd hoped.
He couldn't have ignored her figure even if he'd tried, so he was selfishly glad she wasn't gonna be there losing weight. Especially with her endless cardio.
The gym was now somehow less colorful, the pink and orange workout sets were gone and it all seemed very... grey.
Work, sleep, gym, work. Everything was more grey now, not just the gym. And that was extremely infuriating.
Standing behind the bar and polishing the freshly washed glassware with a microfiber cloth, Ent watched over the open floorplan before him, admiring his own work. His possession, his baby.
A long black coat dragged along the floor as a pair of annoyingly clicky heels walked in from the front door and sat in a booth without even nodding toward him.
That is definitely a car-riding coat, not a cycling coat.
Another rich person somehow heard about this place and decided to scope it out. Great.
The coat was promptly juggled off and draped over the seat's back before guess-who sat down and gestured for her... whoever to sit down, too.
The other person took off a shorter coat and draped it over their side of the booth, as they politely smiled at Ent, who was now probably very creepily observing them.
Trying his best to keep himself busy, he cleaned pretty much the entire bar area, although he'd already cleaned it this morning before closing. Of course, occasionally glancing over, he noticed them talking quite a bit but not being very touchy.
When a server approached the table, she put on her widest, fakest smile and chatted for a minute or so, before ordering for the table.
Oh, how nice I am, please, everyone, like me. I'm so insecure I need to be nice to everyone so they stroke my ego.
"What's the best red wine we've got, boss?" Emilia, the server, asked as she walked up to the register, breaking him out of his spell. "They said price doesn't matter, just quality."
We all wish we had the privilege, your Majesty.
"The Gaja Barbaresco," he answered. "I'll go get it from downstairs."
